


innamorarsi di (to fall in love with)

by sickgirl_mp3



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: EVANGELS STAND UP, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:32:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sickgirl_mp3/pseuds/sickgirl_mp3
Summary: this is for a birthday BINCH....... bc im late. oops! im a fuckin dummy





	innamorarsi di (to fall in love with)

Beyoncé’s thumbing through applications in her office. Owning a private practice is, in itself, difficult, but the benefits outweigh difficulties by a long shot. Her husband Jordan is the same way, though dealing with him is much harder, she thinks. He forces her to break away from her work despite not being there physically; the phone next to her rings and she looks at the caller I.D. to see her own last name: Rossi. She debates picking up at first because of the multiple discussions she and Jordan have had about calling her work phone but she rolls her eyes and answers anyway. 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Mamma!” her six year old son Gabe practically shouts into the phone.

 

Beyoncé breathes out a sigh of relief and then quickly furrows her brow at Gabriele calling during school hours. “Hey, baby, inside voice. What’s going on?”

 

“I threw up, I have to go home,” he says sadly and  _ much  _ more quietly.

 

Beyoncé frowns; she knows it’s the contact with all of those dirty ass kids at school who don’t wash their hands. That fact makes her roll her eyes.

 

“Cucciolo,” Beyoncé replies, “You just got to school too, huh? I’m so sorry to hear that. I can’t leave work, but how about I…”

 

Beyoncé trails off, wondering if Jordan can pick Gabe up.

 

“I’ll be back in a second, okay? Stay on the line. Lemme call your dad and see if he can get you,” she says, picking her cellphone up and dialing Jordan’s number. 

 

He answers on the first ring, breathing heavily. Beyoncé’s eyebrow rises in question.

 

“Busy?” she asks.

 

“A little,” Jordan answers, grunting. Beyoncé hears a dull  _ thud _ that has a scream following it. “What’s up, baby?”

 

“Gabriele is sick, he’s gotta go home,” Beyoncé answers, pulling a post-it out of its dispenser (it is shaped like a cat, Jordan got it for her when she opened her practice) and scrawls a few notes out to herself, including ones that remind her to get Gabe some medicine.

 

“Can you get your mom to pick him up?” Jordan asks.

 

“I will. Sorry to distract you, Jordan. Love you,” Beyoncé responds, making kissy noises at him. 

 

Jordan laughs, but his laugh is quickly cut short as he begins to bark threats at whoever else is in the room with him. Beyoncé hangs up so that he can get back to work, turning her attention back to Gabe. 

 

“Grandma’s gonna pick you up, okay?” she tells him. 

 

Gabe squeals in excitement, making Beyoncé smile. “Okay!”

 

“Be good; I don’t wanna hear you messing with her stuff  _ or  _ her dog, okay?” Beyoncé warns. 

 

“Promise I won’t, Mammita,” Gabriele says, knowingly sounding sweet. Jordan does that too; Beyoncé pretends to ignore it, but every Rossi boy has the irksome but cute talent of being disarmingly charming. 

 

“Yeah, little boy, okay,” Beyoncé tells him, laughing, “Stop playing on this school’s phone. Grandma’ll be there in a minute, okay?”

 

“Bye! Love you mamma.”

 

Beyoncé sends kisses through the phone and hangs up, getting back on her cellphone to call her mother. She answers on the first ring.

 

“Mom, Gabe is sick,” Beyoncé starts.

 

“Hello to you too, Bey.”

 

“Hi mommy. Listen, Gabe is sick and I can’t leave work right now to get him. Are you too busy to pick him up?”

 

***

Beyoncé’s on her lunch break. She’s decided to make the rare decision of going home to eat, and since she’s finished her food rather quickly, she’s getting some chores out of the way so that she nor anyone else has to do them later. She’s making phone calls while she washes dishes to pass the time. Plus, it’s in her nature to do a little gabbing from time to time- especially with girlfriends. She never thought she’d evolve into that kind of person, but motherhood turns one into a completely new person. She holds the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she rinses dishes off.

 

“Gabe got some stomach bug again I think, I don’t know what’s up with that school, girl, but I’m sick of it-” Beyoncé snickers. “No pun intended, poor baby.”

  
  


Beyoncé feels a warm, looming presence behind her and her phone slipping away from her as well. She knows it’s Jordan and it’s confirmed that it’s him when his arm comes in front of her to end the call. 

 

“I-”

 

“Gattina,”  _ Kitten.  _ “I didn’t know you got off early. And, you hung up on me earlier.”

 

“I didn’t,” Beyoncé reples, rolling her eyes at Jordan. His hands find her waist and he’s planting kisses her neck. “I’m on break. _And_ I wanted to let you work. Seemed important.”

 

Jordan’s chin rests on her shoulder and Beyoncé feels the rumble of his voice in his chest since it’s pressed against her back.

 

“Sorry I missed you this morning, cuore mio,”  _ My heart.  _ “I didn’t think work would take me so long.”

 

“It’s okay. I missed you a lot this morning,” Beyoncé tells him, turning around so she can look at him. She stands on her tiptoes to kiss him sweetly, briefly before she wraps her arms around him, hugging him so hard that if he didn’t have such a strong and sturdy frame, he’d be having the life squeezed out of him. Her head rests on his chest and she feels a weight she didn’t even know she had on shoulders disappear. He makes her feel safe, like nothing in the world can touch her. He’s her home.

 

“Got any time in that break for me, Bey?” Jordan asks quietly, tilting her head up so that she’s looking up at him. 

 

She gets a little lost in his eyes, she’ll admit; something about his entire being is just inescapable. She nods, pulling his shirt up. Her hands wander over every inch, every muscle, anything she can get them on. Jordan fumbles with her belt for a moment because it’s so thin and has butterfingers. Beyoncé moves his hands away from her and presses her lips to his as she undoes his belt. He holds her head, thumbs on her cheeks, kissing her passionately. Right as their kiss becomes feverish, open-mouthed, Beyoncé sinks to her knees and drags Jordan’s jeans and underwear down with it. She strokes him, thick, hard and heavy in his hand, looking up at him to see him staring right back. Beyoncé presses a soft kiss to the head of his dick before dragging her tongue along the underside of it, sucking on the head gently when she comes back up.

 

“Stellina…”  _ Star.  _ Beyoncé taking him further and further down her throat makes him trail off, whining lowly. 

 

She swallows around him and his eyes flutter shut as he takes a deep breath in, pulling her off of him. Beyoncé knows he’s impatient.

 

“Counter,” he says, nodding toward the one behind her. She hops on it, shimmying out of her pants as fast as she can. “Bàciami.”  _ Kiss me. _

 

Beyoncé obliges, lips on Jordan’s before he knows what hit him. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently before he kisses her lips again. He moves to her chin, kisses and nips at her neck, and practically tears at her shirt to kiss down her stomach.

 

“Ti adoro,”  _ I adore you _ , he mumbles as he kisses her thighs.

 

Beyoncé wants to clamp them around his head so badly that she has to distract herself from doing it, staring at a clock in front of her and seeing that her break is over- it’s been over for a good ten minutes.

 

“Baby, my break’s over,” she says.

 

“Call Rob and tell her you ran into something important, I don’t care,” Jordan responds, words somewhat slurred because he’s not focused on translating what goes through his head as well before it comes out of his mouth.

 

“I can’t do that--”

 

Jordan picks her cellphone up and dials Robyn, her friend and secretary, and hands Beyoncé the phone.

 

“Bitch, where are you? I got like three people here waiting for you, hoe!” Robyn exclaims before beginning to speak to someone else. “Ma’am, I’m sorry but Dr. Rossi ain’t here yet. I don’t know what to tell you, alright? MISS... please. She is  _ NOT HERE _ !”

 

“Can you-” Jordan starts licking at her and sucking on her clit; she lets out a surprised mixture of a laugh and and a yelp. “Can you see if you can call someone in for me? I ran into something with Gabe and nobody else can get him from school right now. Gimme half an hour, please.”

 

“You get on my nerves. I’d fight you if you didn’t pay me.”

 

“Love you, bye,” Beyoncé rushes before hanging up and clutching Jordan’s hair for dear life as his thick fingers pump in and out of her consistently, slowly, making her head fall back. It hits the sharp edge of the cabinet and she cringes. “Ow.”

 

“L'amore è sofferenza,”  _ Love is pain,  _ Jordan takes his mouth off of her to say, grinning slyly at his own joke. Beyoncé rolls her eyes, guiding his head back down.

 

Jordan gets back to work like nothing happened, putting his mouth to better use than usual, because usually, he is making her roll her eyes, snort, or, in some cases, bust his car windows. Rossis are very far from sane and that is okay. That day, however, he’s making her come twice; she’s still trying to rub against his mouth when he interrupts her by standing up. He kisses her for the hundredth time like it’s the first time in years, which, it does feel that way for Beyoncé, since she hasn’t seen him since the previous morning. 

 

“I love you,” Jordan says somewhat needily.

 

“Per sempre.”  _ Forever. _

 

***

 

“Io e te tre metri sopra il cielo,”  _ You and I three meters above the heavens,  _ Jordan moans, hands firmly planted on the cabinet above Beyoncé’s head as he fucks her as slow and deep as he possibly can, no doubt to stay with her as long as possible.

 

“Corny,” Beyoncé tells him, one hand in his hair and the other’s nails digging into his back.

 

He’d referenced a movie about a troubled boy chasing after a well-to-do girl; the parallels make Beyoncé roll her eyes or smile, it just depends on what day it is.

 

“Doesn’t matter... sono pazzo di te.”  _ I’m crazy over you.  _ “Enough to say whatever’ll make you talk back to me.”

 

Jordan’s hips rolling and grinding against hers makes her shake slightly and takes whatever smart response she had planned right from her. It feels like she's being stretched out, and it feels good, familiar, exciting. The only thing she can manage to whine is his name and every other name she knows him by. She can’t take her eyes off of him, and he can’t stop looking at her either. Something in her snaps.

 

“J, I want a baby,” Beyoncé says. There’s a wild look in her eye that makes Jordan almost stop fucking her, but luckily for Beyoncé, he doesn’t.

 

“You sure?”

 

Jordan stopped questioning her reasoning for wanting children after their third kid.

 

“If you love me, you’ll get me pregnant.”

 

Jordan grins.

 

“È brava con le romanticherie.”  _ She is good at saying sweet nothings _ , he breathes out, laughing.

 

“Perdutamente innamorato,”  _ Lost in love _ . “It’s why I want so many babies with you.”

 

“I can’t say no to that, bella donna.”

 

Jordan pulls out almost completely to push back into her slowly, gradually picking his pace up until they’re both coming embarrassingly, goofily loud (the house is empty for once) and Beyoncé’s almost pulling Jordan’s hair out and Jordan’s hand’s pounding the cabinet hard enough to make the dishes in it rattle and fall over.

 

“Good doing business with you, Rossi,” Beyoncé says, catching her breath.

 

“Always a pleasure, Rossi,” Jordan replies, slapping hands with Beyoncé before he grabs hers. They look like they’re arm wrestling, but it’s their post-sex handshake, because teamwork always makes the dream work if you ask them.

 

“Drive me to work?”

 

“Of course.”

 

***

 

Jordan gets Beyoncé an ice cream from McDonald’s before taking her to work and steals a lick or two from it. Doesn’t matter to Beyoncé, because the top’s off of Jordan’s old convertible and the wind’s blowing through her hair. When Jordan pulls up to her office, she’s kissing him sweetly before hopping out of the car upon seeing Rob storming out of the office.

 

“Bitch!” Rob exclaims.

 

“I know it’s been an hour, I’m sorry, sis.”

 

“I deserve your pay for this shit, Beyoncé. You are so irksome.”

 

“Don’t worry about it!” Jordan yells from the car. “It’s on me.”

 

He holds a couple of hundred dollar bills out to Rob. She gladly snatches them.

 

“This never happened. But y’all are weird, regardless.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY EVA!!!!!! WE ALL LOVE YOU (AND ME TOO) AND YOU'RE THE BEST. "CAN I SEEEEE" HEAD ASS D:SLFK:DSFKSDF LOVE U EVA


End file.
